


While You're Awake

by RisingPhoenix761



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: After care, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Bethyl Smut Week, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Overstimulation, Squirting, and they were ROOMMATES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 16:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16141076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisingPhoenix761/pseuds/RisingPhoenix761
Summary: Daryl can't sleep, and Beth doesn't want to. Day one of Bethyl Smut Week





	While You're Awake

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! BSW2K18! I've got lots planned, but for now here's day one. The prompt was "breathe," and I hope you enjoy. Leave some love on your way out! <3

 

She was so warm and comfortable, Beth wasn't sure what woke her up in the first place. She shifted around in the bed, the rest of her body taking a bit longer to wake up, and opened her eyes to check the alarm clock on the night stand. The digital read-out said it was quarter past three, and when she turned onto her other side she realized why she woke up.

 

Daryl was gone.

 

She lifted her head from the pillow and listened to the sounds in the apartment. The heater was running, steady white noise that usually lulled her to sleep, and very faintly she could hear the television in the living room. She slid out from under the covers and followed the sound, bare feet moving silently on the carpet.

 

He was sitting on the couch in a t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, the remote held loosely in his hand, dark hair a rumpled mess. He was staring disinterestedly at the screen showing an infomercial about food processors, but he looked up before she even got close, like he didn't even need to hear her to know she was there.

 

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

 

He shook his head. "Didn't mean to wake you."

 

She shrugged as she sat next to him, tucking her legs underneath her. The truth was, she had gotten too used to sleeping beside him not to notice the moment he wasn't in bed.

 

She'd been about to start her last year of college when her daddy's friend, Rick, had talked about his friend, Daryl. He'd always had a hard time of it, Rick said, with his dad being a mean drunk that was a little too quick to beat his sons, and an older brother too quick to get into all kinds of trouble. It was his brother almost getting him thrown in jail that convinced him to start over and he needed a place to stay for a few weeks, but there was no room in Rick's house with a wife and young son, and Rick only hoped things would work out in Daryl's favor for once, and give him the break he needed.

 

Getting hold of Rick to say she had room in her apartment was the most rebellious thing Beth ever did. Or at least she thought it was, living on her own terms and inviting a man her father wouldn't approve of to stay at her place. Once she actually met Daryl, though, she realized how far off the mark she was. She didn't know he was more the quiet type, keeping to himself and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, and she also didn't know that he had nightmares. The first time she found him awake in the middle of the night, more withdrawn than usual and looking troubled by whatever was in his head, she didn't know what to do, wanting to do _something_ to comfort him but not sure if he'd welcome her efforts. She had been awake trying to finish a paper for her Psych class, armed with a bowl of Chex Mix and a mug of Earl Grey, and she hesitantly offered to make him some tea, pushing the bowl of mix toward him in invitation. He accepted and sat watching her study, gradually losing that troubled look and seeming a little more at ease.

 

It became the pattern, him waking up in the middle of the night from whatever dream came to haunt him and her sharing her study snack while she finished her assignments. Sometimes she asked him to help her study, and whenever she didn't have any school work they ended up watching late night TV and talking about anything and everything.

 

She hadn't planned on developing feelings for him. At first, their getting to know each other was just to pass the time and was a lot less awkward than being two strangers under the same roof. But the more she got to know him, the more she grew to like him, and it didn't stop at "like." The same was true for him as well, and the night they both realized it was the first night they slept together. It was an odd relationship in the conventional sense; they didn't go out as a couple and no one else knew what was going on between them, but it worked for them. And so far, they preferred it that way.

 

She settled next to him on the couch, leaning into him and relishing his warmth after abandoning her cozy blankets. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and rested his cheek on the crown of her head and let out a deep sigh, and she knew he was thinking about the dream he'd been having. "Wanna tell me about it?" she asked.

 

"Don't remember much," he admitted. "Just that you were gone and I couldn't find you. I ran for days, looked everywhere for you, but you weren't anywhere I could get to. Never saw you again."

 

She reached up and squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. "Sounds like a bad dream," she replied. "I'm glad you woke up."

 

He turned and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. It had taken time for him to get comfortable with even the smallest displays of affection, and while she cherished this one, she knew that dream must have affected him pretty badly. "'M glad, too," he said.

 

"Good thing it was just a dream."

 

She couldn't see his face, but she felt something tense in his body and heard it in his voice as he said hesitantly, "Got me thinking, though...what if that was real one day? If neither of us was here..."

 

"It's _not_ real, Daryl--"

 

"It could be. Nobody ever gave two shits about me, not like you do, and nothing good ever happened to me. Just wonder...I wonder sometimes if _this_ is the real dream, and wonder when I'm gonna wake up. What's gonna happen when I do...when you leave me."

 

She lifted her head to look him in the eye. She recognized that troubled look, tinged faintly with fear she wondered if he even knew he was showing. "You listen to me, Daryl Dixon," she said. "If you're dreaming any of this, then I'm having the same dream you are, and I'm not waking up anytime soon, okay? You're with me now, and I'm not leaving you." She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "You couldn't get rid of me if you wanted to, no matter how hard you tried."

 

The corner of his mouth shifted the slightest bit, like his smile had stage fright, and she kept going. "I know I don't know how bad you've had it, but everybody gets to have something good happen to them once in awhile. And how can you enjoy it if you're scared it's gonna end? You're gonna miss out on a lot if you're thinking about the past or worrying about the future."

 

He raised one eyebrow, his voice ironic. "How'd you get so smart, girl?"

 

"I know this guy," she answered, "he helps me study sometimes. He's pretty smart himself, but he's kind of a jackass sometimes."

 

He scoffed. "Sounds like a loser."

 

"Nuh uh. I don't do losers."

 

She blushed as soon as the words were out of her mouth and at the sharp, knowing look he gave her, but she changed her grip on his hand, intertwining their fingers together. "You okay now?"

 

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. I am."

 

"Good. Wanna go back to bed?"

 

"Bed? Or sleep?"

 

"Well, while you're awake, do you want to..."

 

She trailed off, but with that look in his eyes, she didn't need to finish the sentence. He didn't move for a minute, watching her in silence, and she realized she'd never understood the phrase "bedroom eyes" until she saw his. He lifted his free hand and traced her features, fingers following the line of her brow and jaw and outlining her lips before cradling her cheek in his palm and tilting her face toward his, meeting her halfway with a kiss.

 

She closed her eyes and leaned into him, dissolving into his touch as she breathed him into her lungs. He started soft and innocent, laying tiny kisses against her lips, his nose gently brushing hers before getting bolder and hungrier, pulling her body to his and tracing her lips with the tip of his tongue. She opened her mouth and invited him in, moving her tongue against his as a shiver chased its way down her spine and a different kind of warmth spread through her body. It was the same feelings as the first time, but it was amazing how they just kept getting stronger.

 

He stood with her in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist, arms locking around his neck to hold on tighter, and he carried her back into her bedroom, laying her down on the mattress before kissing her again. She stayed lost in the taste of him for a moment before leaning up enough to lift her top over her head and toss it onto the floor, sighing deeply when he ran his hands across the bare skin of her back before reaching around to her breasts, cupping them and flicking his thumbs across her nipples while he moved his lips and tongue along her neck. She reached for the drawstring of her sleep shorts, plucking the knot loose and hooking her thumbs in the waistband, pushing shorts and panties down her hips, and his hands met hers to drag the bottoms down her legs and off her feet, leaving her naked among the bed covers.

 

She lay back again and he kissed his way across her chest, moving down her body until his mouth covered one of her nipples, using teeth and tongue until she was arching into him and gasping for breath. His hands moved even lower, fingers brushing along her stomach to settle between her thighs. He stroked the length of her entrance before dipping his fingers inside, exploring every bit of her hot, slick pussy until he came to rest at her clit. She bit her lower lip to quiet the whine building in her throat as he teased her, fingers moving deftly like he knew exactly how to touch her but had no problem taking his time about it. He bent his head to her neck again, laving her skin with warm and wet kisses, nipping at her with his teeth, and part of her hoped he left marks.

 

She didn't know if she wanted him to finish her off or to keep playing with her, he could do both _so_ _well_ , but before she could make up her mind he took his hand away, fingers sticky with her juices. He licked every bit of it away with apparent enjoyment, finding her gaze and holding it, something in the hazy cast of his eyes telling her how much he liked it. "Beth," he said, voice low and husky and she felt herself get even wetter at the sound, "you taste so fucking _good."_

 

"How good?" she asked breathlessly.

 

He pressed his lips to hers, tongue dancing in and out of her mouth, and underneath what she could only define as _Daryl_ , she could taste something sweet and musky, and there was something so arousing in being able to taste herself on him when he kissed her that she couldn't hold in her moan of longing after all.

 

"I wanna eat you until you're screaming my name," he murmured against her lips, the words coming out on a low growl, "until you can't take anymore. Want you begging me to stop. You want that?"

 

She nodded, closing her eyes as her heart took off racing in anticipation.

 

"Can't hear your head rattle, girl..."

 

"Yes, Daryl," she replied, "please. Eat me. Make me scream."

 

The shuddering way he drew in his next breath told her he was as eager for it as she was. One last kiss to her lips and he started working his way back down her body, pausing long enough to lavish attention on her breasts one more time before putting her legs over his shoulders and pushing her thighs open a bit more. Just the feeling of his warm breath at her pussy was enough to make her pulse skip and stutter and she hoped he was eager enough to get right to it because as it was, he was torturing her.

 

He kissed her first, the tip of his tongue brushing along her lips, then he spread her open with his fingers and made another slow, agonizing pass with his tongue. That was mostly for him, judging by his groan of pleasure and the soft _fuck_ she heard him whisper to himself before diving back in, sucking her clit, lapping at her folds, thrusting his tongue in and out.

 

It sure hadn't taken her long to find out, Daryl Dixon _loved_ eating her pussy.

 

She reached down to grasp at his hair, trying to keep her legs open when she so badly wanted to tighten her hold on him and keep him there. She let her head fall back on the pillows for a moment, her breath coming in short, fluttering gasps before she propped herself up on one elbow to watch him. He stroked her thigh from hip to knee and back again, his mouth pressed tighter to her body and his tongue alternating between flicking her clit and thrusting into her. He never gave her the chance to get used to any one sensation, determined she should feel everything all at once, and she loved every second of it. "Daryl..." she sighed, fingers twisting farther into his hair and the sheets beneath her.

 

He lifted his head to look at her, and dear God, she could see his face shining and slick with her arousal. "You better remember to breathe," he warned her, and before she could follow through on his advice he was back between her legs, no longer teasing her but devouring with single-minded determination.

 

She dropped back onto the mattress, feeling tiny volts like live current charging through her veins. The hand on her thigh came up to her hip, holding her still while his free hand moved along the inside of her leg until he was sliding his thick fingers inside her, curling against her g-spot while he sucked at her clit, and it was almost embarrassing how quick that set her off, her body arching off the bed and a moan of release flying from her mouth. It didn't stop him, fingers and tongue trading places and she was hardly through the first orgasm before he sent her into another, hips jumping up to him before he could hold her down again and his name somewhere in her cries. "Christ, Daryl, oh fuck, you're good, God you're good..."

 

His low growl was his only response and her last thought was to wonder how he was breathing with his face buried in her pussy like that before she...just... _shattered_. He got her coming again and this time she didn't fucking _stop_ , her body bucking and her limbs shaking and her eyes squeezing shut as ecstasy ravaged its way through her in one wave after another. She remembered to but for a moment she just couldn't breathe, her body too tightly wound to allow her, and when she finally dragged air back into her lungs it was that much more intense. He kept going, fingers back inside her against that sweet spot, and her eyes rolled back in her head and she was almost screaming now, "Daryl, oh my God, Daryl, _Daryl_ _please..."_

 

The release that tore through her was like nothing else she'd ever felt, like every cell in her body was singing his name and no other words existed and she was crying with it, tears prickling at her eyes while her pussy gushed over his face and onto the sheets. He lapped it up, slurping greedily, and finally she'd had enough, sobbing aloud, "Daryl, please, no more, God please stop, I can't..."

 

The words were hardly out of her mouth before he had stretched himself out beside her, cradling her face in his hands and kissing her long and sweet, his fingers curling into her hair and her flavor heavy on his tongue. He'd never gotten her to come like that before; _no_ _one_ ever had. Her body felt weighted down as if she'd never move again, but it was a warm, soft feeling, contrasting with the way everything else felt light as a feather. She felt like she could float away if he didn't hold onto her.

 

"Well," he said, "I'd ask if you liked that, but I think I already got your answer."

 

She let out a tiny giggle. "I didn't know I could do that," she told him.

 

"Gonna make you do that more often, now that I know you can," he promised her, and there was a tingle through her body at the words. He kissed her one more time on the forehead then disappeared into the bathroom, and when he returned he'd washed his face and brought a towel with him. He gently cleaned her up, then pulled off his shirt and slid it over her shoulders; it was warm and smelled like him, and the gesture itself left her feeling adored and cared for.

 

He scooped her into his arms and carried her down the hall to what was formerly the spare bedroom until he moved in. He didn't bother turning on the light, laying her down on the bed and tucking her legs under the blankets before laying next to her. She cuddled against him as soon as he was in bed, and his arms slid around her as he held her. "Gotta do laundry tomorrow," he said. "Might as well throw those sheets in for you while I'm at it."

 

She smiled sleepily. "You're a good man, Daryl."

 

"Hell, woman, it's just some damn bedsheets."

 

It was more than that, she wanted to tell him. It was putting her in his bed to sleep beside her. It was giving her the best orgasm of her life because he wanted to, without asking for anything in return. It was literally giving her the shirt off his back. He'd had it rough, but he let her in, and she saw everything he'd never believed he was, just waiting for the chance to reveal itself.

 

She snuggled deeper into his arms, breathing him in and letting the sound of his heart beating, his lungs breathing with her, lull her into a sense of peace and safety. "Daryl," she said softly, "I think I...I think I love you."

 

She thought he was already asleep, but then she heard him sigh.

 

"Jesus, Beth, I love you, too."


End file.
